


Hoard

by LazuliAlekto



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: A little crack, Bunny Farm Escapee, Dragon AU, M/M, Shapeshifting, a little fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22543666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazuliAlekto/pseuds/LazuliAlekto
Summary: Ignis Scientia was a difficult man to shock.  Pragmatic, composed, cool of head.  He was known for being hard to ruffle, relied upon to have a handy solution to a tricky problem, was the one that people turned to when they needed a particularly stealthy tactic.He wasn’t a man one would consider having a flight of fancy, or a mental break down in the middle of the street.Yet, here he was.  Palm held out, eyes wide as saucers behind his glasses, mouth dropped open in shock, looking frantically from his palm to the vendor and back again.  He shut his mouth, then opened it again.The vendor rolled his eyes, “new around here, I’m guessing.”Ignis blinked at the incongruity of that.  Could the man not see what was in his palm?  But he nodded in reply, he simply couldn’t find his voice.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 29
Kudos: 175





	Hoard

**Author's Note:**

> This is just me mucking about after seeing a post about the world's tiniest dragon, whose definition of hoard is rather looser than usual. His single gold coin hoard is something he allows to be used around town, going from place to place following it, protecting it. My son thought that sounded hilarious, so here we are. I may or may not continue it, but right now, I like it as it stands, just something a little silly to pass the time.

Ignis Scientia was a difficult man to shock. Pragmatic, composed, cool of head. He was known for being hard to ruffle, relied upon to have a handy solution to a tricky problem, was the one that people turned to when they needed a particularly stealthy tactic.

He wasn’t a man one would consider having a flight of fancy, or a mental break down in the middle of the street.

Yet, here he was. Palm held out, eyes wide as saucers behind his glasses, mouth dropped open in shock, looking frantically from his palm to the vendor and back again. He shut his mouth, then opened it again.

The vendor rolled his eyes, “new around here, I’m guessing.”

Ignis blinked at the incongruity of that. Could the man _not_ see what was in his palm? But he nodded in reply, he simply couldn’t find his voice.

With a gesture at Ignis’ palm, the vendor continued, “then you don’t know about our little…quirk.”

“Quirk?” Ignis sputtered. “ _That_ looks more than a _quirk_ to me. I am not hallucinating, am I?”

The vendor laughed, “oh, no, you’re seein’ right.” He gestured to Ignis’ palm again. “I guess the story hasn’t traveled far. Pretty well known around hereabouts.”

Ignis lifted his palm to the level of his eyes. The little black dragon hugging his change stared back at him with bright blue eyes, huffing a tiny swirl of smoke from his nostrils. He glanced back at the vendor who was regarding him with amusement, then again at the tiny reptile in his palm. It proceeded to lay the gold coin flat and curl up on it, looking rather smug.

“What…what do I do with it?”

The vendor scratched his head, “well, usually he follows his hoard. You’ve heard about dragons hoarding, right?” Ignis nodded distractedly. It was a common story. “He gets passed around the town, seems to enjoy meeting new people, so every one knows to spend that coin and let him visit.”

“So, I am to keep him for a while, then spend the coin and he just…goes with it?”

“Yep, pretty much,” the vendor answered. “Though when he first showed up, there was another part to the story, but no-one really gives that any mind now. Not when he seems so happy.” The vendor reached out and scratched the tiny dragon with a finger, right between his brow ridges. The dragon rolled his eyes, arching his back and fluttering his wings. Ignis wondered at them. They reminded him of butterfly wings, almost translucent. It was a very cute creature.

“What was the other part?” he inquired, scratching like the vendor had done. The result was the tiniest vibration in his palm and he brought the dragon closer, eyes widening when he heard an accompanying purr.

“Oh, that’s not important, just some nonsense about a quest or something,” the vendor waved his hand dismissively. “Looks like he’s taken to you right quick.”

“How do I…is there anything else I need to know? Do I feed him? What do I feed him?”

Laughing again, the vendor pointed down the street, “there’s a fishmonger down the way, he really likes fish. Cooked mind you,” the man wagged his finger. “He don’t like it raw.”

Ignis chuckled, “well, that I can do.” He stroked the dragon’s back, between his now folded wings. “How long does he usually stay?”

“Ahh, as long as you keep the coin, generally a couple of days. Hoard, remember. If he doesn’t want to go somewhere, he’ll let you know. Has his favourite places, but like I said, he enjoys going somewhere new.”

“So, he stays with the coin?”

The vendor nodded, “or the coin stays with the dragon,” he chuckled. “Don’t know for sure, no-one’s ever tried separating them.” He scratched his head again, “least, not since he came here.”

“Does he have a name?” Ignis brought his palm to eye level again, studying his new little friend.

“Don’t rightly know, he’s never told any one,” the vendor said. “Oh, if you put the coin in your pocket, he’ll sit on your shoulder so he can look around.”

The little dragon stepped off his coin and clung to Ignis’ thumb, swishing his tail. Ignis plucked the coin from his palm and carefully slid it into his breast pocket. The dragon watched the whole procedure solemnly, then unfolded his wings and with a short glide, perched on Ignis’ shoulder. Bright blue eyes met Ignis’ green, and Ignis swore it was smiling at him.

He thanked the vendor with a wave and headed to the fishmongers.

Taking care of the tiny dragon was easier than he thought. He didn’t seem to require much. Though he was distinctly picky about what fish he would eat. Every morning Ignis would head to the fishmonger and set the dragon down on the counter. He would stalk back and forth, appraising the mornings catch and then set himself down in front of his choice, puffing smoke from his nostrils until Ignis made the purchase. He preferred sea bass over anything else. Expensive, but Ignis could afford it and it seemed a small price to pay to keep the little creature happy.

He quite enjoyed the quiet rumbling purr that came from his new companion when he tucked into his meal.

The dragon also slept. A lot. He would find a sunny window sill and curl himself, nose to tail, only waking when Ignis would pick up the gold coin and deposit it in his pocket. At night, Ignis would lay the coin on his bedside table, the dragon sitting on it protectively. As Ignis drifted off he would spy the dragon watching him, blinking blue eyes lazily.

In the mornings he would find the little dragon on his back, all four feet in the air, snoring.

It made him chuckle every time.

Waking him was a difficult task. Ignis had attempted tickling his exposed belly the first morning. That elicited a growl. So after, he’d simply picked up the coin, dragon and all and gently slid them into his pocket. When the dragon finally woke, it would clamber out and fly up to his shoulder, tiny claws digging into the fabric of his shirt.

He was enjoying the dragon’s company so much it was several days before he tried to spend the coin and let him move on. He hadn’t really wanted to, but he reached into his pocket when he went to the local coffee shop.

Tiny pinpricks on his shoulder made him turn his head, then tilt it to the side quickly to avoid scorched eyebrows when the dragon emitted a burst of rather impressive flame.

The barista behind the counter chuckled, “he’s not ready to move on yet.”

“It would seem not,” Ignis drawled, dropping the coin back in his pocket. The dragon ruffled his wings, then sat back down, flicking his tail. Ignis reached up and scratched between the creature’s brow ridges to soothe him. “He’s already been with me several days, I thought he would be ready.”

The barista shrugged, “looks pretty comfy to me.” She handed Ignis his coffee and Ignis dug into his trouser pocket for some other change. Once he handed it over, the dragon settled completely deciding to snooze on Ignis’ shoulder as he went about his business. 

He tried again a few days later, with the same result.

After a week and half of the same thing, Ignis began to grow concerned. He was coming to adore the little dragon, but felt it was not fair that he kept him. He deserved his freedom, not that Ignis was deliberately holding him, but still. And the other concern was that his business in the town was coming to a close. He would be leaving in a week.

In desperation he returned to the vendor where it had all begun.

“Back again, I see,” the man said jovially. Then he frowned as he spied the dragon perched on his shoulder. He gestured to him, “still with you?”

Ignis sighed, “yes, I have tried to spend the coin, but he gets rather testy when I do. I was wondering if there were any more you could tell me?”

The vendor grimaced, shaking his head, “not really.” He pursed his lips, “he’s never done this before. Always happy to move on after a few days.”

Ignis held his hand out for the dragon to jump onto. “So everyone in town tells me,” he said sadly. He stroked the dragon’s back when he settled on his palm. “I am meant to leave in a few more days, and I don’t know what to do.” The dragon swung his head around to look at Ignis, smoke billowing from his nostrils. “He’s rather adorable, and not at all a bother to look after, but I feel guilty all the same.” He looked up at the vendor again, “you spoke of a quest when he first came to me.”

“Oh, yeah, that.” The man grinned, “you might want to try Old Meg, down by the pier.”

Ignis’ brows lifted, “Old Meg?”

“Yeah, she probably knows more than anyone, she was a young lass when the dragon first showed up.”

That took Ignis aback, “he’s been around that long?”

The vendor nodded, “yeah, at least 50 years or so. Long lived are dragons,” he said, with a nod. He tilted his head as he studied the tiny black dragon sitting docilely in Ignis’ palm. “Never grown an inch in all that time, neither.”

His conversation with Old Meg was…interesting.

She cackled at him when he arrived, dragon riding on his shoulder, “hello, old friend,” she cooed at the dragon. Said dragon thrashed his tail wildly, then rolled onto his back, begging for belly rubs.

But didn’t leave Ignis’ shoulder.

“He came with a trader, that I remember,” Old Meg said when Ignis posed his questions. She groaned a little as she sat herself on a bench, patting the spot next to her. “Said he was searching for something, guess that’s what the quest stuff is about. Not sure I put much stock in that.” She grinned at Ignis, “sorry, I can’t really elaborate more than that. This little fella is…well, he just is as he is. Loves his coin.” She shrugged.

Ignis frowned, “but he won’t let me spend it.”

“Oh, won’t he now?” She eyed the dragon fondly. He received an eye scritch. “Found someone for your hoard, have you?” The dragon purred softly.

“W…What?”

“Not all things of value are gold,” Old Meg said gently, patting him on the arm. “I think you will find that he won’t let _you_ out of his sight any more than he would that piece of gold sitting in your pocket.” She cocked her head, “maybe that’s what he’s been waiting for. Always wondered why he didn’t move on.”

Ignis blinked, mouth agape.

“Maybe he knows you’re not staying in town and it’s time for him to live somewhere else,” she said quietly when she noted Ignis’ shock.

“H…hoard?” Ignis stared at the dragon on his shoulder, “am I?”

The tiny black dragon merely titled his head to one side, blue eyes staring directly at Ignis’.

Old Meg patted Ignis’ knee comfortingly, “I am sure it’ll work itself out. He’ll go or he’ll stay, none can know the mind of a dragon. They do what pleases them.” She smiled at the dragon, “even ones as small as this.”

The dragon let out an indignant snort, and Ignis laughed, slightly hysterical.

The day of his departure arrived and Ignis still had the dragon. Before he left, he wandered about the town, heading in and out of shops, stopping at stalls, just on the off chance that the dragon found somewhere he wanted to be. In an effort to see what would happen, Ignis extracted the coin from his pocket and sat it on the counter of one of the shops. The dragon stared at him disdainfully, swooped down, clasped the coin in his claws and flew back to Ignis’ shoulder.

“I guess that’s that then,” Ignis murmured. “You want to come with me?” He stroked along reptilian scales and got the familiar purr in response. He dipped his head close to the dragon, “you know, you really should tell me your name.”

The dragon merely licked the tip of his nose.

His tiny companion was fascinated by his car, scrambling up onto the headrest, then down to the centre console. He spent the majority of his time on the dashboard, sunning himself as Ignis hummed along to the stereo.

He pulled over at a rest stop, eager for a bathroom break and then a coffee. The takeaway coffee was…tolerable he found, taking a sip as he wandered back to his car. The dragon had migrated to his driver’s seat, curled in a little ball, coin dragged out from the centre console. Ignis shook his head in amusement. Quite frankly, he was surprised that the dragon had stayed in the car and not followed him, but he surmised that sleep had won that argument. He gently lifted dozing reptile and coin, placing them on the passenger seat and settling in for another long stint behind the wheel. Coffee secured in the console, he started the car, glancing aside to see that his companion had woken, blinking at him like a cat.

He reached over and stroked the dragon, chuckling at his purring.

“You really are like a cat, aren’t you?”

An indignant snort was all he received for that observation.

“Oh, don’t like that?” Ignis smirked at his friend. “Well, you certainly behave like one.” The dragon turned around very deliberately and sat with his back to Ignis, flicking his tail back and forth. “That does not help your argument, I am afraid,” he drawled, pulling out of the parking area and merging with the traffic. 

A few minutes later, keeping his eyes on the road ahead, he reached down to his coffee, frowning when he accidentally dipped his fingers in. He glanced down and did a double take. A little black head peered out of the coffee, blue eyes wide, nostrils just above the surface of the coffee.

Ignis veered off course, correcting quickly and then pulling over to assess just what was happening.

There was a dragon in his coffee, soaking himself like it was a bloody bath.

“Err,” Ignis muttered, fishing the dragon out by pinching his wings. He held him up, watching coffee drip off his scales. He grabbed a napkin and set the dragon down on it. “If you wanted a bath, I can think of many viable alternatives to my coffee.” He grimaced at the remaining liquid. He could hardly drink it now. Not when it had been a bath for a tiny reptile.

The dragon shook, scattering droplets of coffee in an arc around him. Add steam cleaning the seats to Ignis’ list of things to do.

Then mayhem erupted in the car.

Ignis was very glad he had pulled over, as he now had a little black coffee drenched dragon cavorting about the car like a whirling dervish.

When he finally captured the dragon, his heart was pounding and blue eyes were dilated, wide as saucers.

“And that is what a coffee buzz does to a tiny dragon,” Ignis mused, stroking the reptile in his palm to calm it down. “No more caffeine for you.” The dragon peered up at him morosely, looking the very picture of abject misery. He cooed at him, “aww, I am sure you feel rather drained now, after all that activity, how about you snooze while I get us home, hmm?”

He received a blink in answer, so he took that for a yes.

The dragon behaved the rest of the way to Ignis’ home, settling on the dashboard in front of the steering wheel, turning his head this way and that, absorbing his new scenery. His tail would lash back and forth every so often, tip flicking at Ignis’ finger tips.

When they pulled up in the underground garage of Ignis’ building, Ignis held his palm out and the dragon obligingly hopped on, gazing up at Ignis trustingly. 

“I think it best if I hide you from everyone,” he said softly, mouth close to his hand. He grimaced. His shirt pocket would be a little obvious with a dragon sized bulge, so he extracted the coin and slid it into his jacket pocket, then carefully held it open so his friend could clamber inside. He poked his head out, front paws hooked over the edge of the pocket, blue eyes blinking up at Ignis. Ignis rolled his eyes and stroked his head then headed around his car and removed his suitcases.

There were very few of his fellow residents about as he made his way up to his apartment. But he kept his arm close by the pocket in case, so he could shield the dragon from sight.

He leaned against his closed door once he was inside, trundling his suitcases to his bedroom after a moment. He opened the pocket and the dragon flew out, coin grasped firmly between his front feet. He landed on Ignis’ bedside table, dropping the coin and surveying Ignis’ bedroom.

“It’s nothing lavish,” Ignis said, opening the first suitcase and pulling clothing out. “But, it’s home and it’s comfortable enough.” He tilted his head as he turned to the dragon, “would you like a tour?”

The dragon bounded off the bedside table onto the bed and straight across to Ignis, plopping down on his butt and staring up at Ignis eagerly, tail swishing the covers. Ignis chuckled and set the clothing on the bed for later. He cupped his hand in front of the tiny creature, wiggling his fingers in invitation. The dragon hopped on and gripped his thumb.

The dragon seemed to find his lounge fascinating. Or rather, he found the couch fascinating as a place to sleep. The kitchen was given a cursory sniff. When he titled his head curiously at the coffee maker, Ignis explained what it was. The dragon eyed it dubiously after his misadventure with the ‘coffee bath’, backing away from it. Ignis laughed, much to the dragon’s disgust. He held his hands up to placate the disgruntled creature on his kitchen counter.

“I apologise, Sir Dragon,” he murmured with a courtly bow. The dragon rolled its eyes in a very human manner. Ignis leaned down so that they were nose to snout, “I do wish you would reveal your name to me, or give me _some_ information about yourself. I know very little about you.” He frowned. What did he know? “You like fish. You like to sleep. You have a coin in your hoard.” He startled when the dragon surged forward and licked his nose. “Am I part of that, too?” He widened his eyes at the reptilian grin he got as an answer. “Well, I apparently am part of that, though goodness knows why.” The dragon snorted. “Fine, I am part of your hoard.” Ignis decided to go with it, despite not really knowing what it meant. He leaned back, thinking, “you are far older than you appear, you like to visit new places.” He sighed deeply, “but there is so much I don’t know. What is your name, surely you have one. How long will you stay? What is your purpose, if you even have one.”

The dragon’s shoulders drooped as if he was sad. He peered up at Ignis, extending his wings to glide onto his shoulder. He nuzzled Ignis’ neck, trying to soothe him. 

Ignis smiled wryly, “it’s alright, I suppose.” He snorted at himself. He hadn’t even questioned why he was talking to the tiny creature. It seemed to understand and perhaps enjoy the fact that Ignis was conversing with him. It certainly appeared to possess intelligence.

“What are you going to do while I am at work? It does not seem fair to leave you cooped up in here all day, but I can hardly take you with me. How do I explain you to everyone?” He pushed his glasses up his nose, sighing. “It’s not as if you will answer me,” he muttered, scooping the dragon into his hand.

He headed to his study, letting the dragon peer in, then to the bathroom. The dragon flew off his hand and into the sink, looking back at Ignis imploringly.

“Ahh, you probably want to wash the coffee off, yes?” The dragon cavorted around the basin, wings flapping, tail flicking back and forth. “Alright,” Ignis chuckled. He put the plug in the bottom and turned the taps to start the water. “This one is hot, this cold,” he said, pointing to each in turn. “How hot do you want it?” The dragon curled itself around the hot tap, tapping at it with a claw. “Hot then,” Ignis said, turning the cold water off. Once the sink was around half full, the dragon dived in, rolling onto his back, kicking his back feet so that he floated about. Ignis could not help but laugh and shake his head. “I am going to go get some groceries and something for us to eat. I shan’t be long,” he waved a finger at the dragon, “behave while I am gone.”

The tiny black dragon flicked his front foot at Ignis as if to say, ‘go,’ and proceeded to splash about in the sink.

Going out without his little companion felt odd, but Ignis consoled himself by thinking about how the people around him would react. The town that Ignis had found him in had gotten used to the creature, having 50 years to do so. Regardless, the dragon had seemed to content to let Ignis go out and stay in the apartment.

Ignis purchased sea bass for the dragon, and then went to buy his groceries to fill his fridge and cupboards.

When he returned the dragon was out of the sink, so he deposited his bags on the counter and went to pull the plug tipping his head in confusion when he found it already done. He shrugged and went to put everything away, finding the dragon sniffing through the bags eagerly.

He shooed it away and pulled the wrapped sea bass out, stowing it in the fridge while he finished unpacking. The dragon nosed at everything, somethings pleasing him more than others. Apparently vegetables were off his list of favourite things. The steak he had purchased was given a very excited sniff, smoke pouring from his nostrils.

“You like steak too?” The indignant puff of flame is enough to make Ignis cringe. The dragon, while he seems to prefer fish, is inherently a carnivore. He should have realised. The fish will be fine until tomorrow. His dragon will feast on steak tonight. He planted his hands on the counter and brought himself down to eye level, “I apologise for not feeding you properly. I thought that…well, everyone told me about your penchant for fish, so I assumed, stupid of me. You shall dine on steak.”

The dragon stalked close, so close that Ignis very nearly went cross-eyed trying to keep him in view, but he didn’t move. Two front feet landed on either side of his nose, his head resting on the bridge. Ignis’ brows shot up into his hairline in surprise. Was that a hug? To his nose? The dragon backed away before Ignis could do anything, and set to pacing around the package of steak impatiently.

Ignis rose from his position and checked the time. Not too early to eat, he supposed. His companion seemed hungry, and Ignis was feeling a touch guilty about his lack of foresight. He reached for the steak and unwrapped it, setting it on his chopping block. He set a pan to warming on the stove and made himself a salad to go with it. The dragon paced back and forth, watching intently before sitting down squarely in front of the sink. Ignis hadn’t even considered shooing him off the counter, his rule of no animals on the counter tops discarded in the face of a very insistent reptile. He supposed that the dragon _was_ rather different to the average house pet.

When everything was done, steak rested, Ignis cut a rather large chunk off and set it on a plate for his friend, watching in amusement as the dragon set his front feet on it and proceeded to tear large (for him) strips away, chewing and gulping them down voraciously. He laughed when the pint sized reptile burped, then rolled onto his back waving his clawed feet in the air like a contented cat. He tickled his belly and set to eating his own meal, all the while watched by bright blue eyes.

Bed time presented no more difficulty than it had before. The dragon used its coin as a bed while Ignis settled beneath his covers.

When he woke things had changed during the night. 

The coin was still on the bedside table. The dragon was not. Instead, Ignis felt a small weight on his chest, peering down to the slightly muzzy view of him slumbering in perfect peace. He blinked at the interloper, reaching to pet it, holding back a snort of fondness. The dragon was wrapped up in his own tail, a little ball of scales and wings, the barest wisps of smoke trailing from his nostrils.

That became Ignis’ new normal.

Every night, the dragon would settle on his coin, every morning Ignis would wake to find he’d migrated during the night. Ignis would sometimes enquire whether the dragon wanted something soft to sleep on, thinking perhaps the coin was uncomfortable. He got a sniff of derision for that.

Over all, they co-existed rather well.

Tuesdays, in general, were a very nondescript day of the week. They didn’t have the ‘ugh, it’s Monday’ feel to them, nor the Wednesday Hump Day vibe and they certainly didn’t have the ‘thank fuck it’s Friday’ excitement. In that, they resembled Thursdays Ignis felt.

So he was woefully unprepared for anything out of the ordinary when he arrived home on a Tuesday afternoon. It had been a long, monotonous day, filled with monotonous people with monotonous problems that Ignis just _had_ to be the one to solve. He was exhausted, a little cranky and there was an itch behind his eyes that told him he shouldn’t have worn his contacts for so long. He sighed, running his hand through his hair, looking forward to a glass of wine, preferably in the bath, a little background music…

He dropped his briefcase on his foot when he entered his apartment.

Then shrieked rather loudly, (not at all sounding like a teenage girl) backing up against the door, fumbling with the doorknob.

There was a strange man standing in his kitchen.

A naked strange man.

As startled as Ignis, the man dropped the plate he was holding. It smashed into pieces at his feet, but neither of them made a move. They were far too busy gaping at each other.

“Shit,” the stranger said, holding his hands up to show he had no weapon.

Ignis laughed hysterically at that. He could _see_ the man had no weapons. He was bloody naked. In his kitchen. 

Bright blue eyes widen at the laughter spilling from Ignis and he stepped closer, which made Ignis shriek again. 

“Who…what? _How?_ ” Ignis sputtered, trying to find words.

“Ugh, I can explain.”

Ignis kept his back pressed against his door, eyes fixed on the middle distance between them so that he wasn’t looking at…well…

“I do wish you would.” He gestured uselessly in the man’s direction, “or at least put some pants on.”

The man looked down at himself, “oh, yeah. Pants.” He grimaced, “sorry, kinda forgot about those.”

Ignis choked. “How can you forget about pants?”

He got a shrug, “don’t wear ‘em often.”

Ignis blinked, trying to absorb that. His intruder was a nudist apparently. And still in his kitchen. “Err…” Ignis faltered, completely at a loss as to what to say or do. It was hardly a situation he had ever found himself in before. It had to be the most ridiculous situation he’d found himself in. Then he frowned. His eyes darted to his bedroom door, ajar. The Dragon. Had the man seen him, or hurt him, or…

He chanced a glance at the naked man, trying to judge whether he could slip past and check to see if his dragon was alright when the man coughed, wincing when Ignis shifted to the side.

“Umm, could I borrow some pants?”

That brought Ignis up short. Had he not had pants on when he arrived? Had the man actually broken into his apartment sans pants? He made a sound indistinguishable from a boiling tea kettle.

“Ignis?”

That stopped the sound that was coming from his mouth. He gaped, incredulous. 

“You…you know my name?” He shook his head, surely he was dreaming. “How do you know my name?” His voice had gone hoarse in his shock.

“Ahh, I said I’d explain…” The man winced, running a hand through his black hair and moving to stand behind the kitchen counter, covering himself, finally at least, realising Ignis’ discomfort.

“Right, pants,” Ignis muttered, darting to his bedroom now that the path was clear. He searched frantically for his friend, growing more and more panicked the longer he was about it. All to no avail. No dragon anywhere. But his coin sat where he’d last seen it, on his bedside table.

“Please, stay hidden,” he whispered. He swiped up a pair of sweat pants and rushed back out to hand throw them to the weird man. He averted his eyes as he covered up, sighing in relief when the man coughed delicately.

He was seated quite casually on Ignis’ couch.

“You might want to sit, Ignis,” he said, patting the spot beside him.

“I am fine where I am,” Ignis retorted sharply. “How do you know my name and how the devil did you get in here?”

“Ahh, well, you told me your name yourself.” He tipped his head to the side, fixing him with a intense stare, his blue eyes boring into Ignis’ green. 

“I did not,” Ignis sputtered indignantly. “I would have remembered…” He trailed off as the man laughed. “I really don’t find this situation to be something to laugh over.” The man stopped, holding his hand up, shaking his head.

“You did tell me, I promise you, though I get why you would think you haven’t.”

Ignis grew annoyed, “I do wish you would stop being so bloody obtuse.”

“Fine,” he said, extending his hand. “My name is Noctis, pleased to meet you, Ignis Scientia, Dragon Hoard.”

Ignis stepped back, feeling the blood drain from his face, “w…what did you say?”

The man who called himself Noctis rose from the couch, closing the distance between them, “you heard me.” He smiled softly, “thank you for your care of me. I am sorry about the coffee stains on the seats in your car.”

Ignis staggered back, knees going weak, “no…that’s…”

“Impossible?” Noctis’s blue eyes gleamed as he stared at Ignis. “As impossible as a tiny dragon making you part of his hoard?” He smirked, "did you expect me to say something along the lines of 'I am fire, I am death,' and then roar impressively?"

“I…I…” Ignis stuttered, hand groping behind him for something to hold onto, something to ground him. His vision swam, head feeling curiously fuzzy and light.

Noctis moved closer and Ignis got a good look at his eyes. The exact same shade of blue as the dragon’s.

Ignis’ brain could no longer take it and he fainted, sliding into a heap on the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> 


End file.
